


Got It Bad

by Goodknight



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Crushes, High School AU, M/M, Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:33:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodknight/pseuds/Goodknight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hiccup's pretty sure the new student, Jack, might actually be flawless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jack Frost had attended Burgess High since the second week, apparently. He was the sort of guy you couldn't miss - white hair, electric blue eyes, skinny shoulders, tight pants, and a smile like Adonis - and yet, somehow, Hiccup had never noticed him until early October. Jack sat in the back corner of History with his phone out, leaning dispassionately against the wall. The teacher ignored him.

  
Hiccup usually liked to get out of class quickly so he could set up for the next period or take full advantage of his spares. He hadn't spent a lot of time twisted around in his seat to check out the back wall, so he must have rushed in and out without noticing the new kid behind him all of September. It was disconcerting, actually, that Jack had probably stared at the back of his head for a whole month before Hiccup had even known he'd existed. It made him uncomfortably aware of his body. He knew Jack was probably busy playing Candy Crush, but he thought he could feel the trajectory of his piercing gaze shooting bulls-eyes at his back, tingling his spine like pins and needles.

  
Hiccup was a couple sentences ahead in his notes, so he dropped his pencil to give himself a reason to turn and take another look at the new boy. Sometime during the current slide on the teacher's PowerPoint and the film clip preceding it, Jack had pulled his hood over his head and slumped further in his chair, so his knees stuck out and spread under the table. He'd propped his phone up against the desk. He didn't even have a notebook out. Hiccup straightened just as the teacher turned the lights back on.

  
"Alright, I hope everyone has their yellow sheet from last class, because I'll be collecting it now." Hiccup flipped his binder cover over to retrieve his own completed assignment. "It was due." The teacher was saying, as some of the class made surprised and disapproving noises. "If you need to hand it in at lunch, I will accept it until 1h15." She took Hiccup's paper and he angled himself so he could see her turn away from Jack without even approaching him. He had put his phone flat on his desk with the screen on, obvious. The teacher reprimanded another student for losing his page, promising him another after she was finished collecting from the rest of the class, but not Jack. Jack just sat in his desk and watched with his chin in his palm.

  
When class let out, the teacher waved to Hiccup, and he gave her a small wave back. He lagged a little making his way through the door and then stood on the threshold, letting the rest of the room file out. But not Jack.

  
"Why do I even care." Hiccup mumbled to himself, tugging at the strap of his backpack. He'd only noticed Jack a week ago, but he was... well, weird. Interesting, and incredibly weird. He was gorgeous, with a perfect smile and a soothing voice, and Hiccup had never been great at expressing himself socially, so he'd been making excuses to catch glimpses of Jack at every opportunity, graces be damned. But either Jack skipped class half the time or he was in some sort of programme, because Hiccup rarely saw him. He didn't eat lunch in the cafeteria, or on the hill outside. He didn't play soccer, take woodshop, go to art meetings, and rarely went to his locker (#156). Hiccup, ok, yes, he found Jack very easy to look at and he'd been harbouring the beginnings of a crush, but mostly he was just bored and friendless and he was curious, really, how Jack managed to attend school without ever being there.

  
He checked his watch and shook his head, dancing a little on his feet. He really had to make his next class. "What were you hoping for anyway?" he chided himself as he turned towards the stairway, "Hey, Jack, didn't see you there, yeah, I was just casually waiting for you outside. Yeah, we've never spoken, but I just thought, hey, first time for everything." He sighed, skipping the last two stairs and speed walking into the courtyard on his way to the sciences building.

  
He enjoyed his science classes, which was why he'd opted for advanced physics and biology, despite his upper level English and history classes already cluttering his schedule with enough essays to bury him alive. He liked learning how the world worked at its deepest, lowest level, and seeing the result of that: the laws of motion culminating in the perfect flight of a sparrow, entropy and energy and the circle of life. It made sense to him, studying the top level and the machinery underneath in equal measure.

  
He had a test in Physics, which he found challenging but manageable, and then he had an empty slot in his timetable during which he visited with Bunnymund, the Arts teacher. He was a gruff, burly man with early greying and strong arms who painted with the delicacy of a flower petal kissing a canvas. Hiccup hadn't taken art this year, to make room for some breaks in his schedule for free periods and woodshop, but he had been an excellent student in years before, and Bunnymund let him paint over the abandoned canvases under his desk and use the charcoal in his office whenever he felt like stopping by.

  
The teacher grunted from over Hiccup's shoulder when he sat down at a slanted desk and began sketching on darkened paper with a heavy pencil - a bird of prey, spreading its great wings from its perch on a line of led. "You're always doing critters in flight." Bunnymund commented, crossing his arms. "Mean something?"

  
Hiccup shrugged, sweeping his pencil along the animal's back and blocking in a long feathered tail. "Probably. Maybe I'm supressing something."

  
Bunnymund chortled. "In any case, I miss you in my class. Don't see what wood carving's got over this."

  
"Sawdust in your shoes, the constant threat of grievous bodily ingury, enough students nicking themselves to singlehandedly support the Band-Aid industry... just to name a few things."

  
"Doesn't seem like those are positive points, mate."

  
Hiccup smiled, still sketching. Bunnymund settled down at his desk in silence for the rest of the period, looking over projects, and by lunch Hiccup had shaded and highlighted his piece to completion. He rolled it up and slid it into a nook near the bookcases on one wall, waved to Bunnymund, and retreated before the ninth graders started crowding the tables with their lunchboxes. His dad had prepaid for him at the cafeteria, so he usually ate at a table with the company of an interesting book.

  
In line for spaghetti with green salad and baby tomatoes, he spotted Jack. He was rubbing his eyes near the microwave, waiting for something to cook. It always baffled Hiccup how someone so good looking and, from what he'd seen, gregarious, always stood around looking lonely.

  
When the girl in front of him was finished, Hiccup gave the lunch lady his name and ID, quickly collected his can of cranberry juice and his food, and in a rare bid of impulsiveness, moved towards Jack.  
"Uh, I need to... this is a bit cold." He explained.

  
Jack smiled at him. He'd probably seen him dash over from the line with his freshly heated food, but he didn't say anything. "You can put it in with mine, no problem." He opened the door and pushed his container over to make room for Hiccup's spaghetti.

  
"I'm Hiccup, by the way."

  
Jack's smiles were devious. "Jack Frost."

  
"We have History."

  
"And Biology."

  
Hiccup blinked in surprise. Biology? He'd had no idea.

  
"I'm in the back." Jack explained. "Sit-down education isn't really my thing."

  
"No kidding. I never see you."

  
That seemed to make Jack upset, because his eyebrows slumped over his bright eyes and his mouth tightened. "No, I, uh, don't have much presence, I guess."

  
"Sorry, it's just - me neither, actually. Under the radar."

  
Jack smirked. "Sounds cooler in your words."

  
They waited for a moment as the microwave worked, and Hiccup tapped his fingers on the top. Jack's hands were deep in his pockets.

  
Hiccup had spent the first two years of high school a measly 5'6", with full cheeks and poor fashion taste. He'd seen twigs thicker than his thighs, and better muscled middle schoolers. His voice had been taking its time adapting to puberty, and it wasn't until last year that he'd grown into his gangly arms and long fingers, leaving him comfortably tall and human proportioned. His new found soccer talent had granted him the adoration of everyone until they realised he mostly liked to talk about newts and poisonous reptiles, as well as giving him the shoulders his father had always wanted for him. He'd graduated into being nice looking apart from being about as undesirable as a very nerdy slug, so it made sense that the kids in their grade had never actually absorbed him into their circles - they had well established friendships and groups, and Hiccup still wore khakis.

  
But new kids were an exception. When someone like Jack, who rolled his tan skinnies up to mid-calf in a casual way and opted out of socks with more grace than a Calvin Klein model deciding to go without a shirt, whose narrowness was more _willowy_ than it was _scrawny,_ and who boasted a cool and glaring genetic mutation like albinism for Gods sake strolled through the doors with a grin like he'd never been told no, he usually made friends. Everyone loved new kids.

  
Jack saluted an 11th grader who walked past them, but he was busy opening a pop can and didn't see.

  
"Well, I'll see you around, Hiccup." Jack said, when the microwave beeped. He pulled his lunch out and opened it, revealing a bright green botvinya soup.

  
"Yeah, see you."

  
Jack left the cafeteria, and Hiccup settled at the table closest to the microwave, eating his lettuce without pulling the book out of his bag. Jack confused him. He had ever since the first time Hiccup had turned to pass a sheet to the person behind him and locked eyes with the most dazzling boy he'd ever seen - stunning in a bulky cardigan and light grey jeans and wrinkling his nose when he smiled as he accepted the handout from Hiccup. His first impression was that Jack was brighter than fluorescent and really beautiful.

  
He sighed, curling his pasta around his fork. He wanted to know where Jack slunk off to eat his lunch, but figured it was rude to up and follow him through the halls like a confused lost dog. At least now they'd had a real conversation, so Hiccup didn't have to feel incredibly awkward thinking about Jack almost constantly. _Ah, young love_ , he thought, _so irrational and creepy._

 

Jack liked to eat in the staff room. His adoptive father, North, was friends with Principal Sandy, the grumpy art teacher Aster, and his bubbly tutor, Toothiana. They always had cookies, coffee, and fun in there.

  
Sandy was waiting when he returned with the soup North had made for his lunch, sipping at a cup of dark tea. He smiled kindly when Jack slumped down on the thick couch across from him. He'd never learnt sign language, but Sandy's expressions and gestures came across well enough that he knew he was prompting him to talk about his morning.  
  
  
"It was alright." Jack said, putting the spoon in his mouth a moment before continuing at Sandy's interested encouragement to elaborate. "We have these little books for calculus - I can't tell the difference between six and eight. Seriously! Tooth? Yeah, I'll... I'll ask her. I know she'll help. Class wasn't bad. You know I'm awesome at Maths; it's always great! I wish we'd watch more movies though..."  
Sandy shook with silent laughter, and Jack grinned.

  
"You should look into a movie theatre for the gym. I'm serious! It would be a massive improvement. Who needs beep tests; we could watch some sports thing, like Million Dollar Baby. We'll absorb the sports through photosynergy."

  
Sandy began to laugh even harder, and Bunnymund walked in halfway through Jack's plea, pouring himself some coffee. "Photosynthesis." He corrected. "And humans can't do that. No wonder you're failing Bio."  
"Hey, you can't speak to a student like that! You better watch out - I'll report you for defamation of character."

  
"It's not defamation if it's true."

  
Jack snorted, accepting a cup of coffee from the Art teacher. "I did great on the weather unit."

  
"Hum. Don't they teach weather in sixth?"

  
"Yeah, so?"

  
"You're in high school, mate."

  
Jack blew out his cheeks and then returned to his soup. He didn't like being reminded how behind he was - there were a lot of things he struggled with, but that was what Tooth was for. He just wanted to eat his awesome lunch in peace.

  
After the lunch break, Jack waved goodbye to good natured Sandy and stuck his tongue out at Bunny before making his way to Tooth's little classroom. She had a circle of desks, two computers, and a bookshelf so she could work with students more individually. She was helping Jack learn to read so he could participate better in his normal classes, helping him complete his assignments verbatim, and she always tried her best to make sure he was engaged and focused enough to get his homework done. He appreciated the one on one lessons with her, as she was always brightly dressed, smiling, and ready to offer him hugs and kindness.

  
They worked on his English, and she read him Shakespeare in preparation for the class trip to the theatre they would be taking the next day. He loved classic literature: epic tales of heroes and criminals, thrilling battles, even gritty moral commentary and pastiches of long ago lives. It took him too long to decipher letters by himself, and he could only reliably read children's books, so Tooth's classroom was the only place he could experience those sorts of wonderful things.

It was hard to learn so late, not to mention embarrassing. He crossed his legs, pulling his ankles up onto the plastic chair, and leant over the table.

  
"You okay, Jack? Want to work on something else?" Tooth asked, lowering the play and smiling at him. Her feather earrings and bold eyeshadow made her look like a very lovely tropical bird.

  
Jack shook his head. "I was enjoying your Macbeth impression." He answered, putting on a gravelly voice, "Is this a dagger? Wherefore however is this item perchance? Which is before me? What is it? Like, oh my God. Is it a dagger?"

  
Tooth giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. She returned to the book. "Alright, let's see how this ends. I'm a little excited, as well!"

  
Jack knew she'd probably read Macbeth a thousand times, but he appreciated her enthusiasm as she launched into the next soliloquy.

 

  
  
Hiccup sighed. No one in his English class seemed to be able to read. If Lady Macbeth stumbled over her lines one more time, he was going to pull his braids out. _Why volunteer,_ he thought, _if you can't pronounce anything over three syllables?_

  
The class dragged as Hiccup doodled in the margin of his notebook. He'd read Macbeth in ninth grade, and seen the play twice since, so he wasn't worried about paying attention.

  
He was a little more preoccupied thinking about Jack.

  
_'It's cooler when you say it._ ' Remembering that made Hiccup's stomach clench. _No_ , he thought, _if anyone here's cool, it's definitely you._

  
By the time the bell rang, Hiccup had wasted the entire class wondering about Jack. Where was he from? Where did he hang out? Did he have any friends? Amazing, far away friends from his old school whom he texted all day to keep up with their wild escapades? Would it be weird to start talking to him before class? Hiccup already walked past his locker every day on his way out of school, might as well up the weird by trying to engage Jack while he was at it. Not like he had anything to lose.

  
Class let out when they'd finished the final act, seven minutes early, and Hiccup packed his books in his black and red bag and waited for the excited students to pile out the door, flooding the hallways and shushing each other, 'other people are still in class!', and all that. He put his History book back in his locker and took out his Bio so he could review it at home before class tomorrow morning, and then waited for the bell to ring before making his way to the Maths and Arts building... and Jack's locker.

  
As usual, Jack was nowhere to be seen. Hiccup slowed his steps in case he might appear in the next couple minutes, lingered a moment at the exit, and then accepted that Jack was not going to show up today - not unusual, just disappointing. He zipped his jacket and stepped into the bitter snow.

  
Hiccup didn't mind the chill. The snow fell soft and fresh, only deep enough to brush the treads of his boots, and the walk home was only 20 brisk minutes. His house stood near the end of a luxurious road on 1.2 acres of landscaped lawn, flowers, pool, and fire pit. His dad liked holding barbeques well into early winter, grilling whatever thing he'd shot on his most recent hunting trip. Hiccup had been a vegetarian since he was 15, when his dad had finally handed him a rifle and instructed him to point it at a young doe in the forest behind their vacation home. He'd shook so hard he missed and nicked the creatures leg, sending her sprawling and stumbling into the underbrush while his dad cursed and charged after her. He'd thought about how she must have suffered, traipsing through the trees, her blood tracking behind her, too hurt to leap the fences of the golf course, maybe too pained to eat, before collapsing somewhere and succumbing to her slow, torturous death. He wished he'd just killed her cleanly, like his dad had told him to. He wished he'd never touched a gun at all.

  
When he arrived home, his dad wasn't home.

  
"Mum!" He called, toeing his boots off and hanging his coat in the closet. "I'm home!"

  
She called back from upstairs, and her large golden dog, Cloud, came bounding down to greet him, laying calmly on his back for Hiccup to scratch.

  
"I made cookies." His mum said when she emerged from her room. Cloud slowly thumped his tail and watched her hug her son. "How was school?" She asked, leading him to the kitchen. "Your father will be home soon, he's asked us to make dinner without him."

  
"School was fine."

  
Val offered Hiccup a cookie and he took it with a thankful smile. "I'm glad to hear that." She said. "We're always lonely at home without you."

  
Cloud had lay down on the mat in front of the sink, his tail still wagging. Hiccup doubted Cloud missed him; he was entirely his mother's dog, and he preferred her company over anyone's.

  
They began making dinner: roast salmon in herbs and lemon, broccoli and cauliflower similarly cooked, a creamed soup, spinach salad, and a fruit crisp. Hiccup was handy chopping, filleting, and mixing greens, as well as a passable baker, so he focused on the prep and dessert while his mum brushed the fish with butter and cooked the vegetables. His mother had only been part of their family since 8th grade, when Stoick had finally decided to give up his love of Scandinavia and follow her west. She'd left when Hiccup had been too young to know her after an accident and a mistake she'd thought she'd never mend, taking her modern ideas and her self directed shame with her. Hiccup had never understood why; she and his father were as loving and perfectly matched as any couple he'd ever met. He enjoyed every night spent eating with them, every movie during which his parents held hands and he held the popcorn on his lap, and every morning his mother kissed his freshly shaven cheek before he got out the door for school. She took every opportunity to show him and his father that she cared for them. Making up for lost time.

  
He'd always struggled to see eye to eye with his dad, but she understood him unquestionably. When his dad met his thoughts with confusion, Val countered them with awe and an open mind. She celebrated his uniqueness, and liked hearing about his less 'desirable' interests: lizards, art, the cartographers guild he'd joined last year, particularly interesting classwork, animal behaviour theories. Not just soccer. Sometimes, he wondered why he never told her he was bisexual, too. He couldn't imagine a scenario where she'd balk and get upset. She knew everything else about him.

  
When the crisp was prepared and sealed, waiting to follow the fish into the oven, Toothless came scampering around a corner, mewling. The smell of salmon and citrus was clinging to his mother's hands, and he eagerly rubbed against her leg, his large green eyes silently begging.

  
"Toothless," Hiccup chastised, "you have your own food. This is ours." He picked the cat up around his middle and held him to his chest, stroking the smooth black fur under his chin as Toothless purred appreciatively. Cloud had jumped up too, tilting his head at the cat.

  
"Well, it's only right to look after them first, I think." His mother said, closing the oven door on the salmon. Toothless ate on one of the ledges on the cat hotel Hiccup had built him near a window in the long room off the entrance, which was also equipped with carpet to scratch, dangling toys to pounce on, and holes to curl up inside. He'd picked Toothless up as a stray back in Scandinavia, and had dedicated a great deal of time in shop class making sure he had all the amenities he needed to live like a feline king. Hiccup put a couple treats on the structure so Toothless could eat them without Cloud bothering him, and his mother asked the big dog to sit, lay down, shake, and speak as she gave him pieces of meat.

  
Hiccup had been delighted when he met his mother and found that she was an animal lover. His father had been staunchly against pets before Toothless, and had only been won over after Toothless had curled up under his chin one night after a particularly long day's work, set to purring, and pressed his tiny paws to the large man's bearded face, his eyes blinking slowly and affectionately up at him. It was a rare person who disliked Toothless - even though he sometimes tore at top speed around the house, his steps like thunder in the early mornings, waking everyone up when he wanted breakfast.

  
Dinner with his family passed as usual. Stoick returned home tired, kissed his wife, and offered his son a greeting and a nod. Hiccup ate with one hand, as Toothless settled himself in his lap, kneading at his legs and purring loudly, demanding to be stroked along his spine.

  
Hiccup lost track of his parent's conversation, as he was helping himself to some crisp and grieving the early morning run his soccer team was required to go on the next day. The evening saw him help his father with the dishes, show his mother how to attach a picture in an email, and read a chapter ahead in the bio textbook before settling in front of his laptop with his back to the headboard.

  
He was responding to messages from his friends back home, telling Astrid about the mild autumn weather, when it occurred to him to try searching for Jack Frost on facebook.

  
And there he was. Jack Frost, Burgess. His profile picture was a slightly off kilter snowman, and the only other thing on his page was a shot off a ski mountain somewhere and a picture of Jack grinning with a pair of skates, his hair hidden by a knitted toque and his bare feet curled against the ice of a lake surrounded by forest and backed by grey mountains. He'd liked the pages 'parkour' and 'Burgess High Grad Class :P'.

  
"Congratulations, Hiccup." He mumbled to himself, enlarging the photo so he could better see the mirthful expression on his classmate's face, feeling breathless as he met the pixelated blue eyes. "You've got it bad."  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I've always had a soft spot for High School AUs, so it's about time I took a shot at one; hopefully my Midas-Angst-touch doesn't spoil things too badly. I look forward to fun and happiness in the future :) I hope you enjoyed this first chapter.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jack, it is time for big field trip!" North announced, spreading his great arms.

  
Jack was buried in his top sheet with his nose between his knees and his pillow sitting on his ear, trying to ignore him.

  
"Tooth tells me is very exciting. Shakespeare! He is good writer, no? Very good. I would like to see it myself, so you will be getting up now and enjoying it. Rise and shine!"

  
"Rise and shine?" Jack mumbled, kicking at his sheet and rolling onto his stomach. "7 is too early to rise, let alone _shine_."

  
"Ach! Nonsense! It is earliest chicken who gets worm."

  
Jack laughed, sitting up with the sheet around his head like a hood. "I'm sure if I was a chicken I'd be a little more eager." He yawned, and North clapped his hands together with a huge smile.

  
"I make good breakfast for us both. Orange juice! Fresh bread! This is worm for young boy."

  
Jack grinned, still looking tired. He'd never liked getting up before noon. He followed North downstairs in his pajamas, through the entrance and into the large kitchen. There was a loaf of sourdough waiting, and North had set out a variety of his homemade jams and peanut butter in maple, vanilla, and chocolate. North spent a lot of his down time gardening and landscaping his beautiful home, and he liked to can the berries and fruits he grew for use all year round.

  
North had bought the estate and settled down late in his life, retirement looming on the horizon, after establishing the most successful toy company in the Northern Hemisphere. It wasn't until then that he'd realised he was entirely alone. All his life he had cared for children: organising charity, building toys, and creating fantastic Christmastime light shows in his yard for all to enjoy - complete with hot chocolate and candy canes for little visitors. But his big house had 7 bedrooms, all empty, and being single at his age meant he'd never have a child of his own. That was when he'd started looking into adoption. He'd gone into the process open to bringing any child into his life, and they had pointed him to Jack, who was no child at 14. He'd been thinking he'd be adopting a 6, maybe 7 year old, but he'd said, yes, alright, he would give Jack a try. And then he'd never let him go. Jack had been as tumultuous as a brewing storm, sometimes leaving the dinner table in a huff, sometimes closing his bedroom door and refusing to speak to him, but North had seen something in him that he couldn't help but love. Jack was kind. He was gentle with animals, sweet to the neighbourhood children, playful and boisterous and full to the brim with laughter and curiosity. When North showed him the joys in his own life, Jack responded by gifting him with the most incredible smiles, and North knew from the start that he wanted Jack to be family.

  
Jack was digging through the pantry, now, a chunk of bread in one hand. He was collecting a pile of snacks to bring to the play: candy canes, as were always abundant at North's, cheese crackers, a juice box, and a container of cookies North had baked the night before. He dumped them all in his backpack before sitting at the table across from North to finish his orange juice and cram the rest of his bread and marmalade into his mouth.

  
"First month of school is gone." North suddenly spoke up from over his newspaper, peering at Jack over the pages, eyes twinkling behind his thin gold reading spectacles.

  
"Yeah?" Jack said through his mouthful of food.

  
"I am thinking that I am very proud of you."

  
Jack shrugged sheepishly, but couldn't help thinking that he'd done nothing every other kid on Earth could do, and every kid on Earth did it better and had been doing it for longer, but he didn't say that to North. "Well, I'm gonna get changed." He said instead. "Meet you downstairs?"

  
"Of course! I will clean table. Don't take too long spraying and combing the hair, yes?"

  
Jack turned and laughed, shaking his head. "I don't take that long."

  
"Is matter of opinion."

  
Jack left smiling and took the stairs to his bedroom two at a time. North always woke him at the absolute latest possible time so he could eat and get ready without being late, and drove like a madman to school so Jack could have his extra 5 minutes in bed. He appreciated it; he was not a morning person.

  
He put on a light blue t-shirt, a loosely knitted white sweater and a pair of jeans, styled his hair, brushed his teeth, and then slid down the bannister into the entrance hall where North was putting his coat on.  
"Ready?" He asked.

  
"Yeah, just -" Jack pulled on a pair of canvas shoes, crushing the backs with his bare heels. "Ok, let's go."

  
North drove what Jack would usually call a mid-life crisis car: no backseat, uselessly fast, probably six figures, and shiny as hell, but North drove it like he'd been behind the wheel of, like, Lamborghinis or something _all his life_. Jack didn't know a ton about cars, honestly. And he suspected North had never had a crisis about anything; he was too laid back and calm and badass for the usual old people stuff.

  
They pulled up at Burgess just as the bell rang, and Jack skipped his locker to rush to the English room. He'd never had to come to this class, since he spent the time slot in Tooth's room downstairs, but no one seemed to notice him slip in as they were settling in their seats.

  
"I'll do roll call on the bus. It'll be out front in 10 minutes. As usual when we're going out of town, please behave yourselves, you represent the school. Everyone must come back with the bus, unless your parents spoke to the director or texted me or you have some proof that you're allowed to leave..." The teacher was sitting at the front of the class in a little desk, holding a clipboard. Jack slipped behind the back row, looking for somewhere to sit, and saw someone familiar with an empty seat on either side - Hiccup.

  
He dropped his backpack on the table next to the other boy and folded his arms over it, slouching down heavily in his chair.

  
Hiccup looked cartoonishly surprised to see him. "Uh, morning. I didn't know you were in this class, too... and it's not like you're hard to miss. Maybe I should get my eyes checked."

  
"I'm not in this class."

  
"Oh. Then why - "

  
Jack turned his head to smile dazzlingly at HIccup. "I'm here for the field trip." He explained.

  
"I didn't realise it was open to everyone. Usually class trips are reserved for, you know, _the class_."

  
"Aw, you don't want me here?"

  
"What? No. What? I'm just saying, you know, that's the rules." Hiccup made a strange, forced sound and shrugged one shoulder, gesticulating emphatically with his hands.

  
"I've never let rules stop me, Hiccup." Jack said seriously, before breaking into another toothy smile. "But don't worry; I am supposed to be here. Shakespeare unit. Mandatory. Need to see it to pass. All that."  
"Oh, ok." Hiccup cleared his throat. "So..."

  
As Hiccup was scrambling for something interesting to say, the teacher announced that it was time to meet the bus. Jack straightened up, slipped his backpack over one shoulder, and headed for the exit. He turned to check that Hiccup was following suit, and then trailed after the group onto the lawn.

  
"You like the back or the front?" He asked, turning around completely and walking backwards down the bus aisle.

  
"Uh, whichever."

  
"Back it is, then." Jack sunk down next to the window, resting his knees on the back of the seat in front of him with his bag on his stomach, patting the spot next to him so Hiccup would sit.

  
"Thanks. Shakespeare fan?" Hiccup asked, looking down at the top of Jack's head.

  
"Yeah, well... I liked it. Haven't read any of his other stuff, so I'm not sure I could label myself a 'fan', exactly."

  
"Most people aren't."

  
"Why's he famous, then?"

  
Hiccup hummed. "I just mean... most people in English don't seem the type to enjoy the classics."

  
Jack shifted his shoulders so he could look squarely at Hiccup, a mischievious twinkle in his eyes. "That's not fair." He declared. "Seems to me hot soccer jocks _love_ this stuff."

  
Hiccup coughed, and Jack looked up to see that his ears had turned pink. "Point taken."

  
The bus pulled away from the school and over a speed bump that sent most of the students bouncing. Jack fiddled with the zipper on his backpack a moment as Hiccup answered the teacher's roll call and gazed down the aisle. He'd never liked silences - there was no such thing as a comfortable lull in conversation for him; he worried Hiccup would get bored of him. "So, HIccup. We're stuck here for an hour, want to play a game?" He asked.

  
"Please don't say you want to play paddy cake."

  
"I was thinking 20 questions."

  
Hiccup raised an eyebrow. "Can't say I've heard of that one."

  
"Don't worry about it; it's easy. I ask you something, you ask me something. 20 times."

  
"Sounds more like an interegation. Are you cross examining me, Frost? Trying to extract information? I'll never break, just so you know."

  
"I wouldn't be so confident, Haddock." Jack smirked. "First pet?"

  
"My cat, Toothless."

  
"Aha! Effortless! There's no resisting me." Jack beamed "Toothless, huh? Does he really have no teeth?"

  
"Oh no, he has teeth. Trust me. But aren't I supposed to be asking you a question now?"

  
"Yes. And that's your question."

  
"No no no, no it isn't, you cheater! Do you have pets?"

  
"Not... really. North has a horse, so I guess he's sort of mine too, since North's sort of my dad."

  
Hiccup nodded. He was extremely expressive, Jack noticed, underlining his every word with some gesture, leaning forwards to listen and nodding attentively. Jack wasn't used to many people paying him much attention. He wanted Hiccup to come closer. He wanted to lean his shoulder against Hiccup's arm and just... well. "What's your favourite season?"

  
"Hm, I don't know. The autumn here is pretty nice. Why's North only sort of your dad?"

  
"I'm adopted."

  
"Oh. Sorry. I, uh, didn't know."

  
Jack gave him a cheeky smile. "If you'd known you wouldn't have wasted a question asking."

  
"Right."

  
"Favourite ice cream flavour?"

  
"I'm not big on ice cream, actually." Hiccup answered. "I'd go for a tried and true vanilla."

  
"Are you serious? _Not a fan of ice cream_? Hiccup, do you know what you're saying?"

  
"Yes? This just means there's more in the world for you. Next time I'm offered ice cream, I'll redirect it your way."

  
Jack nodded. "In that case, I'll let it slide. But this is your first strike, you tasteless dessert-know-it-none."

  
"Know... it none?"

  
"Opposite of a know it all. Hey, if Shakespeare can make up words, so can I."

  
"Shakespeare was a hugely popular playwright, who managed to cater to arguably _the broadest possible audience_ ever, and whose works influenced modern literature and survived centuries. There's not a lot he _couldn't_ do, linguistically speaking." Hiccup deadpanned, levelling Jack with a blank look.

  
As the bus drove through the busy city and onto the highway, Jack found out that Hiccup's favourite colour was forest green, that he liked jellybeans, and that he was very interested in travel. Their game ended when Jack spit the fruit punch he'd pulled from his backpack over his knees when he laughed at a story about Hiccup's first miserable soccer tryout, during which he'd taken 'two balls to the face.' He'd pulled his sweater off in a panic so it wouldn't have a chance of staining, and unthinkingly tried to dab the juice with the edge of Hiccup's fleece while Hiccup muttered 'oh, come on, at least try to be mature... this is my pain you're laughing at here! What am I, a rag?'

  
When he was finished blotting the stains on his jeans, Jack ended up offering Hiccup one ear-bud for his iPod while he set up a game on his phone.

  
"Kesha?" Hiccup asked when the shuffle started.

  
Jack didn't look up from sliding numbered blocks on his screen. "Yeah. Got something to say?"

  
"No... just... it's Kesha."

  
"What can I say; I like my music to be fun. I never claimed to have good taste."

  
Hiccup let out a breath of laughter, watching Jack play over his shoulder. "It's weird we didn't talk before now." He said.

  
Jack handed Hiccup the phone so he could give the game a try and shrugged. "I'm used to it."

  
"I can relate." Hiccup muttered, avoiding Jack's fingers as he tried to back seat play, nimbly pushing buttons before Hiccup could get to them. "Would you - hey!" He felt his neck getting warm as Jack held his pointer down with his thumb.

  
"Maybe if you played right, I wouldn't need to intervene!"

  
"You're sabotaging me!"

  
"I'm helping you!"

  
Jack had an uncanny way of lightening the mood. Hiccup started to laugh, pushing Jack lightly with his shoulder and tugging the phone away. "Worried I'll beat your highscore?"

  
"Never!"

  
"Ah... ah, here I go... I'm beating it..." Hiccup was holding the phone well over his head, and Jack scrambled out of his relaxed spot onto his knees to grab at it. The screen actually said 'Game Over,' but when Hiccup let Jack pull his arm back down, Jack didn't comment on it.

  
The bus let them off soon after in front of the theatre, and Hiccup sat next to Jack to watch the play, sharing North's cookies and watching sidelong as Jack chewed on a candy cane. He was in a state of happy shock the ride back to school as Jack actually did demand that they play paddy cake, because Hiccup 'was obviously hinting at it.' He wanted to take every chance to touch Jack he could get, and for a moment he could almost swear Jack was making excuses to do the same.

  
"You have really cold hands." Hiccup commented, a huge smile on his face as they descended the stairs off the bus.

  
"Or, you just have really hot hands, jock boy."

  
"I do not have hot hands."

  
Jack smirked. "Look pretty hot from where I'm standing."

  
"You can't see temperature."

  
Jack shook his head, his eyes crinkled in that mysterious, mirthful way. "My ride's here. I'll see you in Bio tomorrow." He said.

  
"See you."

  
Jack waved and ran off across the parking lot to jump into the passenger of a sporty red car, leaving Hiccup with a feeling like his chest was being slowly steamrolled.

 

  
Jack had first noticed Hiccup in the cafeteria on the third day of school. He'd spent the first day with Sandy and the second with Tooth getting a tour, a lecture, and a chance to familiarise himself with the classes and the programme he'd be following while he attended Burgess High. Hiccup had been sitting at one of the long tables, leaning his shoulder against the wall while he read a book with a large fire breathing dragon on the cover. His eyes were half lidded, his expression bored, and he'd braided two pieces of his shaggy hair. He licked his lips every time he turned a page, and every once in a while he'd take a bite out of the sandwhich in his other hand. He was the most handsome, dorky looking boy Jack had ever laid eyes on.

  
He sat with Hiccup again in Biology the morning after their field trip, greeting him with a sleepy wave. Hiccup approaching him at the microwave had been all the invitation he'd needed to start actively seeking him out - it wasn't in him to be shy, but a lifetime being ignored had left him certain he'd always be rejected, and he'd worried Hiccup would brush him off if he made the first move to talk to him. Still, he'd been dying to strike up a converstion all month. He really was a naturally friendly person; he didn't spend his time alone by choice.

  
"No notes again?" Hiccup asked when the teacher started a discussion on enzymes.

  
"Nope."

  
"You must have a fantastic memory."

  
Jack laughed, drawing the teacher's stern eye. "Not in the least." He said bitterly.

  
"I could... you could probably borrow mine, if you want."

  
"S'Okay."

  
Hiccup shrugged and tilted his head with a bemused expression. "If you say so."

  
The class dragged, but it was interesting. Hiccup was very aware of Jack fidgeting next to him. He could tell the other boy was watching him more than he was watching the board, and when the teacher called out 'Jack, are you following with us?', Jack whipped around with a winning smile and assured him he was 'just listening.' Somehow, that didn't seem to bother the teacher, and she returned to her diagram with a contented nod. Hiccup tried not to shift too much under Jack's apparent scrutiny, tried to look... as good as possible. Maybe he shouldn't have worn corduroys. Weren't corduroys 'out'? Ugh, Jack always looked casually well dressed enough to know that sort of thing. Was he sweating? Could Jack tell he was sweating?

  
They parted ways when the bell rang, Hiccup going to woodshop after stumbling over a lame 'see you later' and waving to his crush, and Jack off campus to enjoy his spare out to an extended lunch with North.

  
They spent the rest of the week and the week proceeding it in a similar fashion: Jack and Hiccup talked idly before class before Hiccup became silent and attentive throughout the lectures while Jack busied himself with some mindless game and merely listened, or, sometimes, decided to draw on the left side page of Hiccup's notebook. There was nothing Hiccup liked better than seeing Jack's doodles on the back of his homework, though he doubted the teachers agreed. He'd sometimes slide his binder closer to Jack so he could better reach it, offering Jack a fond smile.

  
As the weekend rolled over, Hiccup caught Jack at his locker - the first time the other boy had used it since late September.

  
"Hey." He greeted, leaning against the locker next to Jack's.

  
Jack was forcing his backpack into the narrow space with his knee and bracing against a stack of books with one hand. "Oh, hey." He let out a sharp breath as the backpack finally popped between the locker's edges and slid to the bottom.

  
"You're not bringing anything home to study? You do know we have a Bio test Monday, right? You weren't too distracted butchering my old assignments to hear Ms Beedy announce it?"

  
Jack scrunched his nose up with an affronted look as he pushed his cluttered binders onto the top shelf. "If by butchering you mean _improving_ , then no, I was not too busy making cool snowflakes out of your old shit - I don't know why you keep it, anyway; so you're welcome, now your books are lighter - I just don't have anything to study."

  
"Yeah, you should really start taking notes, there." Hiccup laughed. Jack was trying to stop his binders from sliding out so he could close his locker, and Hiccup reached out to help while Jack shoved the bottom of the door with his toe.

  
"I take my tests with Tooth."

  
"Ms Loo?"

  
"She has my stuff and we study together. Which means... free weekends!" Jack managed to get the locker closed and held it while he looped his padlock through. "Unless she comes over."

  
"She comes over?"

  
"She's old friends with North."

  
Hiccup nodded. Something in Jack's tone gave him pause. He wasn't usually very good at picking up on cues, but Jack broadcasted his emotions like a roadside billboard. He had shoved his hands in the pocket of his hoody and was leaning against his own locker now, one foot hooked over his ankle, mirroring Hiccup's position... except cooler. His dark brow had cinched and he was looking at the laces on Hiccup's hiking boots. Jack's obvious discomfort made Hiccup's throat close up, made his torso all the way down into his stomach feel as groggy and thick as an oppressive summer haze. "Well... I mean, if you change your mind, you could always... text me. Whenever."

  
Jack chuckled. "I don't even like to think the _words_ 'test' and 'studying' unless I absolutely have to... but if it means getting your number... I might be able to make an exception to my 'fun only on weekends' policy."

  
"Hey, talking to me is fun." Hiccup scrambled to pull his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Jack. "Just put yourself in... I never bothered to learn it."

  
"Not a lot of people ask for it?"

  
"Are you kidding? I get people... all the time. Constantly. Asking for my number. They can't get enough of me... I mean, look at me."

  
"Uh huh." For his part, Jack did look at him, a silly smile on his face.

  
When Hiccup checked his contacts, there he was: Jack Frost  <3\. Hiccup felt his cheeks heat up and cleared his throat, giving Jack an uncertain glance, but the other boy was smirking, still relaxing casually against his locker. Hiccup sent him a simple 'hi', nodding to himself. "So... good. Ok, so..."

  
"I'll call you."

  
Jack reached out to touch his arm for a moment, looking steadily into Hiccup's eyes, before he walked away, leaving Hiccup to breathlessly mutter 'wow' and run a hand through his hair, still standing in front of Jack's locker with his phone out as students rushed around him.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Hopefully more actual things will start happening now that Jack and Hiccup are comfortable interacting with one another :) I don't want to go on about myself too much here, but I do want to warn that I don't have much access to the internet and I'm going through a lot of (positive!) life changes atm, so I can't promise consistency. Thank you for the support in this little fic + understanding in that regard <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi. Are you busy.**  
  
Hiccup jumped up from where he'd been leaning against the island in the kitchen, taking his phone in both hands. A text from Jack.  
  
**Not really. What's up?**  
  
He held his breath, waiting for Jack's reply, but then his phone began to chime, and Jack Frost was calling him, just like he'd said he would.  
  
"This is it, Hiccup." He mumbled to himself.  
  
His mother looked up from where she was seated on a barstool with a glass of water and a paperback novel. "Someone's calling?" She asked, putting her index finger at the centre of her page to mark her spot as she looked expectantly at her son.  
  
"Uh... of course, I, uh, have quite the active social life, mum. I'm very- I'm in very high demand."  
  
She chuckled, and the phone went silent.  
  
Hiccup looked down at the screen - at his dark green clock and wallpaper. "Oh God." He said, "I missed it."  
  
  
Jack was laying on his back in bed, feet in the air. He'd dropped his phone on his face a couple times as he flitted between staring at Hiccup's contact page and playing fruit ninja.  
  
"Hey Hiccup, guess you're busy after all, huh? I hope you're not studying too much! It's the weekend! Call me back." He ended the message and let his phone fall onto his chest, tapping his fingers against the case.  
  
Well, that sucked.  
  
As he was pursing his lips and staring at the popcorn ceiling of his bedroom, distractedly hooking and unhooking his ankles, North knocked briskly on the door.  
  
"Yeah?" He called over the radio.  
  
"I am going to barn to visit horse, and maybe grocery store."  
  
Jack grinned. "Can we get ice cream?"  
  
"Ice cream..." Came North's considering reply. "Maybe... If I had a shopping buddy to convince me... maybe then we would be getting ice cream."  
  
"Alright, let me change."  
  
North banged the door one more time to show that he understood, and then Jack heard his footsteps retreating down the stairs.  
  
He threw his phone on the bed and switched his cotton pajamas for a pair of jeans. He loved going to the store with North. He would never get tired of asking for things and hearing 'yes' every time - North was ridiculously accommodating, and never bulked at spoiling Jack for all he was worth. When he was ready, he slid down the bannister, slipped on his trodden down shoes, and sauntered down the garden path to the back field.  
  
When North left Russia, he brought with him a small fortune's worth of treasures - his swords, which hung over the fireplace; his coat; and, most importantly, Petrov, the old red Russian Don. Petrov lived in a one-stall barn behind the house. North visited him multiple times a day to speak with him and give him warm grains - the great horse would be 29 in the spring, and he and North had been together for all of those years.  
  
"He is bravest horse." Jack's adoptive father often said, when he'd come back inside with an empty bucket. "Smartest and best horse in all of Russia."  
  
When Jack slipped through the white fence around Petrov's little flower dotted paddock, North had just finished putting away Petrov's brushes. "We are going now to store." He said to the horse, who was nosing at the empty pail in North's hands. "Goodbye, my friend."  
  
"Bye, Petrov." Said Jack, patting him on the shoulder.  
  
"Grocer first." North began, motioning for Jack to close the gate and follow him to the car. "Then we are needing Garden Centre."  
  
"Aw man, I didn't know this would be a chore run!"  
  
North's eyes glittered. "You are earning your ice cream."  
  
"Man, that is unfair." Jack laughed, settling in the leather seats. He kicked off his shoes so he could put both feet flat on the dash, over the heater. When he unlocked his phone, he saw that he had a voicemail - and a missed call from Hiccup.  
  
"Hey Jack. I guess, um, now you're busy. Haha. So, call me back, too." A pause, and then: "Oh God that was embarrassing." There was some shuffling, and a woman's voice saying 'could you empty the dishwasher?' before the message finally ended. Jack laughed. Hiccup's voice was a little different over the phone.  
  
He dialed Hiccup back, only to reach the voicemail. "Missed you again!" He chirped. "Call me in a couple minutes; I'm going to get ice cream."  
  
North looked over from the driver's seat with an amused smile. "Who is calling?" He asked.  
  
"Hiccup."  
  
"Hiccup is friend of yours."  
  
"Yeah. He is."  
  
They turned into the market and got out of the car. North had gone from content to downright jolly, and he kept looking at Jack and nodding as they walked into the produce section.  
  
"Think they'd give me a free cookie?" Jack asked, when North had picked out a couple lychee fruits and a butternut squash.  
  
"There is cookies at home."  
  
"Yeah, but, it's different. Always worth a try, right?"  
  
North chuckled. "If you say so. Maybe this time will be different than hundred other times you have tried, no?"  
  
The bakery workers did not give Jack a free cookie - only the stink eye and a reminder that they only gave cookies to children. Jack sulked back to North's side, and North laughed heartily at him.  
  
"I hate being an adult." Jack complained.  
  
They drifted down aisles, North picking out ingredients and necessities while Jack pointed out sweets and brightly coloured packages with a hopeful glint in his eyes and a sheepish shrug. He was debating whether they needed one of each kind of oreos for the pantry when he noticed his phone had lit up - a message from Hiccup.  
  
"Now I've missed you."  
  
Jack breathed out an amused sigh. He called Hiccup right back - only to go directly to voicemail, as though Hiccup's phone were off. "We've got a pretty great game of phone tag going on here." He said. "I'm calling you right back." When he was finished, he called back right away - straight to voicemail again. "Oh my God Hiccup, pick up your phone!"  
  
When he ended that message, he noticed Hiccup had left him one as well - "Yeah, haha. I'll try again!"  
  
Jack snorted. They must have called each other at the same time. After a minute of waiting, birthday cake oreos in one hand, phone open in the other, he finally caught it - a call from Hiccup.  
  
"Hey."  
  
Jack grinned. "Wow, finally!"  
  
"No kidding. We aren't very good at this, are we?"  
  
"Pfft." Jack propped his cell on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around three boxes of cookies. "Speak for yourself."  
  
"Yeah, yeah. It's all my fault - I should be watching my phone 24/7 just in case Jack calls, noted. Uh, so, what's up?"  
  
"I'm at the store."  
  
"Oh yeah. You said."  
  
"You doing anything?"  
  
"I'm at home. I mean. No. I have no plans, if that's - sorry, I mean. I'm not doing anything, but I'm not just sitting here doing nothing, I'm - I'm doing the dishes."  
  
"Cool."  
  
"Wow, no, that was the least cool thing I've ever said. Thanks, though."  
  
"No problem." Jack laughed. "I was just thinking, since I put pants on, we could do something. I can't bear the thought of you sitting around thinking about tests on a Saturday."  
  
"You can't bear the thought of me being a responsible student?"  
  
"Exactly. Responsible? What a boring word! Ugh. I can feel... my brain getting bored..."  
  
"Very mature, Jack - "  
  
 "Wanna get lunch downtown?"  
  
Hiccup was silent for a moment. Jack heard him clear his throat. "That - that would be great. Where, um, were you thinking of going?"  
  
"Somewhere take out? It's really nice out, so... we could check out the shops."  
  
"Yeah. It is. And that sounds awesome."  
  
"Great! I'll meet you at, like, 1? Outside that cafe near the weird old man sculpture and those memorial benches?"  
  
"Sure. I can do 1. 1."  
"Great."  
  
"Great."  
  
After they'd hung up, Hiccup slumped down against the cupboards, and pumped both arms into the air with a loud 'Yes!'  
  
  
"You are leaving me alone to finish chores now?" North admonished Jack as they piled the groceries on the conveyor.  
  
"Yeah. I'm meeting Hiccup for lunch."  
  
"Hiccup is boyfriend."  
  
"No - no, he's my friend."  
  
"He is friend who is boy! My mistake." North's beard twitched with a knowing smile, and he leant in to give Jack a little nudge with his elbow.  
  
North ate two of the ice creams in the box they'd bought on the drive downtown, saving  the other two for Jack and Hiccup. He'd staunchly refused to drop Jack off a block down from the cafe, insisting that his car was cool enough to make up for the embarrassment of being driven like some little kid, and spent several minutes pointing out young men on the street wondering if each one might be Hiccup.  
  
The real Hiccup was leaning against a pole next to an empty bench, a dark red backpack hanging off one shoulder, dressed in brown leather and baggy jeans. Jack leapt over the open convertible's door when he saw him, to North's great displeasure, and sauntered up to him, ice cream outstretched.  
  
"Woah - hey." Said Hiccup, taking it awkwardly. Jack had gotten a little ahead of himself and opened it as soon as they'd left the store - it had begun to drip during the drive over.  
  
"Hello Hiccup!" Boomed North from the driver's seat. "Is funny name, no?"  
  
"Uh." Said Hiccup.  
  
"Ok, bye North!" Said Jack.  
  
North nodded, waved, and swerved back into traffic, leaving them standing alone in the autumn chill.  
  
"Ice cream, huh?" Hiccup questioned after a moment of stunned silence. "Seems a bit out of season."  
  
"Ice cream is never out of season, duh. Jeez, Hic." Jack bit into his, and then noisily licked the mess he made off his lips.  
  
"Wow. You just kinda sink your teeth in, don't you."  
  
"Food is for biting, Hiccup."  
  
"Okay - wow. No. Not always."  
  
They started walking towards the East of Burgess' small downtown. Hiccup noticed that Jack was wearing thin, soaking sneakers; each step in the mucky snow along the roadside edge of the sidewalk wet them still more, and he swore he could see water squishing out the sides. "You really don't prepare well for the weather." He said fondly, shifting Jack to a more trodden path with a guiding hand on each of his upper arms just as Jack incredulously wondered which foods could not be bitten. "Soup, for one." He answered, once Jack was safely in place under the awnings of the shops, where the pavement was properly dry.  
Jack laughed, ruffling the hair at the back of his head. "Right."  
  
"So, do you have any preference?"  
  
"For what?"  
  
"I mean... for food. Where to eat."  
  
"Oh. Yeah. I mean, no." Jack shrugged. "Candy shop."  
  
"No."  
  
"Right. Pizza?"  
  
Hiccup smiled and nodded. "I like real food for lunch."  
  
"Seems lame," Jack sighed theatrically, "but, I'm willing to make some sacrifices."  
  
"We can go to that specialty sweets shop on Trille, near the thrift, after." Hiccup suggested. "I'll get you something... to make up for, um, not going there for lunch."  
  
"Then pizza's on me."  
  
Hiccup did try to pay for his own slice of pizza at the till, but Jack nimbly ducked around him despite his best efforts. They ended up sharing a large soda, because Jack insisted that he was allowed to get infinite refills (he wasn't) so there was no point buying two. ("The deal's not worth it, see, when - nevermind, just, trust me, we only need one.")  
  
Hiccup suspected Jack may have wanted to share with him, when he stabbed two straws into the top and put the coke between them, leaning over to drink, but he was too nervous to actually have any. Jack ended up tossing most of it. Actually, Hiccup was pretty sure Jack didn't even like soda - hadn't he said something like that one day during morning break, when Hiccup was teasing him for his incredible sweet tooth and inexplicably unrotten teeth?  
  
By the time they left the little pizza shop, Jack with half his pizza still in one hand and both empty ice cream cones in the other (Hiccup having given Jack his partially eaten one after noticing Jack eyeing it expectantly from across the table), Hiccup had worked himself into a very small, internal, nervous fit.  
  
This whole outing seemed a lot like a date. Hiccup watched Jack dump his cone and most of his slice in a bin outside the fountain in the square, sweaty hands deep in his pockets, worrying himself into a well contained frenzy. If it was a date, wouldn't it be incredibly, horribly rude to ask? And if it wasn't... nothing would be more embarrassing.  
  
He followed Jack in sprinting across the middle of a relatively busy road, his heart beating somewhere in his esophagus. They ended up with a bag of toffees, something chocolate Jack had jumped with joy at the sight of, and some brightly coloured gummies in the shape of little birds Jack insisted were too good to be eaten.  
  
"What's the point, then?" Hiccup asked, taking his change from the shop owner while Jack tried to surreptitiously take a third helping of sample fudge.  
  
"Uh... novelty?"  
  
Hiccup's chest swelled. Everything Jack said made him want to pitch himself at the floor. Out of deep, soul crushing like.  
  
They left the shop a couple minutes later, after the owner had pushed a lump of fudge into Jack's hand with a kind, bemused smile and wished them a Happy Christmas. Snow had begun to fall outside, and the temperature had dropped several degrees since they'd first met up. Jack tucked his sweets into Hiccup's backpack alongside Hiccup's wallet and keys.  
  
"It might be a little cold for wandering around." He said, looking completely content and perfectly comfortable in the gathering flurries.  
  
"Yeah..." Hiccup responded slowly, "So... do you want to..." He broke off and looked away down the street, not sure whether Jack was trying to politely leave.  
  
"I'd invite you over, but North might ambush you." Jack shrugged, clacking his teeth together sheepishly as he grinned. He'd gone pink at the top of his ears, now, too, so his whole head looked like someone had dabbed watercolours at the corners of a blank canvas.  
  
Before he could think about what he was saying, Hiccup blurted out "My parents aren't home", so quickly and bizarrely he wasn't sure Jack had even understood him.  
  
"Hey, I can meet your weird cat." Jack said with an airy laugh.  
  
"Toothless. I have bus tickets."  
  
"Thanks."  
  
They waited at a bus stop around the corner from the cafe where'd they'd met up, huddled under the graffiti-ed shelter. Jack pulled his knees up to his chin and traced one of the initials etched into the wood on the bench while Hiccup leant nervously forward, watching for the number 60 bus.  
  
"Wow." Jack said when they got off in Hiccup's neighbourhood, "this is amazing."  
  
Jack had never seen so many mansions on one street. Each property hid behind an extravagant gate and the privacy of several feet of hedges and ancient trees.  
  
"My dad's the mayor." Hiccup said, by way of explanation. "He's always been into government."  
  
Jack followed Hiccup down the driveway towards the house - a stately brown brick building with tall windows and a balcony on each side of the huge front door. The yard was still covered in brown leaves, ceiling-ed in by several massive oak trees.  
  
Hiccup fished his key out of his bag and held open the wooden doors for Jack.  
  
"Welcome to my excessive home." He said, when the door had sealed shut behind him.  
  
Jack left his soggy shoes under some sort of wooden bench next to a coat rack and started off down the short hall to the right. "It's nice." He said, turning to look at Hiccup after peeking into a bright piano room with a long, red and brown carpet. "Like a really fancy woodsman's cabin. Weirdly comfortable."  
  
"It's nothing like a cabin, but thanks."  
  
Jack laughed. "Your dad hunts, then?" He asked, pointing to a set of antlers hanging above the fire in the next room.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"You don't sound happy about that."  
  
"It's really not my thing. The whole, you know... killing stuff. Thing."  
  
Just then, there was a raucous meowing and a thud as Toothless propelled himself around the corner, slid on his nails into the wall, and then bounded towards Hiccup and leapt nimbly from a table onto his shoulder. "Here's my cat."  
  
"Hi, Toothless." Jack greeted the slinky black cat.  
  
"You can pet him, if you want."  
  
Toothless purred appreciatively as Jack rubbed at the top of his head and stroked a palm down his spine. "He's great."

  
"Yeah. Want to see my room?"  
  
Hiccup slept on the top floor, at the end of the corridor. He had a window looking out on the backyard and a sliding door that let onto a patio with a single chair against the wall. He'd hung a few charts on one of the walls, a huge beige map at the head of the bed. A cork board with notes and a photograph of his mother in green shorts and a jungle hat wearing a snake about her shoulders was pinned next to the comparatively small closet.  
  
Jack loved it. It was so Hiccup - the simple wooden double bed, with quilts and a knitted orange cover, the simple furniture, the overflowing bookcase.  
  
"Did you make this?" Jack asked, tapping the bedside table with his knuckles.  
  
Hiccup nodded. "Wood shop."  
  
"That's incredible."  
  
"Pretty standard 8th grade stuff, really."  
  
Jack shook his head. "Come on! I couldn't make so much as a coaster."  
  
"Well, maybe you couldn't... like I said, standard 8th grade level..." He meant to be teasing, they teased each other all the time, but Jack didn't smile. His face looked startlingly dark, and Hiccup hurried to change the subject. "I have some games on my laptop."  
  
"Alright."  
  
Hiccup pulled his computer out from under the bed and cast around for somewhere else they could play. His desk was cluttered with papers and boxes of nails and tacks and bits of string... Why didn't he ever clean? He was about to suggest they go downstairs when Jack jumped onto the mattress next to him and propped himself against the headboard, tucking his thin ankles under the comforter and pressing his elbows into Hiccup's favourite flat pillow. Hiccup's breath caught, and he found he couldn't bear to suggest Jack move anywhere, even though the thought of sitting arm to arm with Jack on his bed made him want to hurl.  
  
"Um... this one's multiplayer, you conquer each other... I mean..." He cleared his throat, feeling heat curl up his neck and flood his cheeks. "You fight each other, and build your, um, empire, so... you can win. And that's that one."  
  
"What about this?" Jack was pointing at a folder labelled 'some stuff' next to the shield and sword icon of the game, and Hiccup squeaked.  
  
"That shouldn't be on the desktop." He said, his throat closing up. "It's nothing. That's not a game. It's for school."  
  
To his horror, Jack was smiling his cheekiest toothy smile, and had leant even closer to Hiccup's shoulder, so he was almost leaning against him. The entire length of their legs were touching. Hiccup was stuck between wanting to go turn the thermostat off and trying his hardest not to move a single muscle. "Is that one about conquering too?" Jack asked, looking fit to explode with cruel mirth.  
  
"Holy shit, Jack."  
  
"I'm only playing, come on! Conquering seems fine. Let's do that one." Jack started trying to steer Hiccup's mouse to the game with his index finger on the track-pad, and Hiccup let him, feeling defeated and wonderful and so completely confused.  
  
Hiccup didn't let Jack win, but he won anyway, despite being completely terrible - always clicking the wrong things and never paying attention to the conversation blurbs from his characters. He was too distracted by the way Jack's legs moved when he got excited over some stupid thing in the game to properly play. Every time Jack bought a building, he turned his knees into Hiccup's thigh, and he'd almost crawled over him to deliver his winning move during his last turn. It was impossible for Hiccup to think of anything else. He didn't care at all about the sad little red soldiers bleeding and dying on the screen as Jack's blue jacketed men beat them with their little pixel swords. As 'YOU WON' flashed on the screen and Jack began gloating, it occurred to Hiccup that they could have passed the laptop back and forth between them, instead of leaving it stuck on his lap, where Jack needed to put his forearms on Hiccup's stomach just to play.  
  
"Well, that was a disaster." Hiccup said breathily, closing the programme.  
  
"For you!" Jack scoffed. "I'm awesome at this."  
  
"That's going a bit far."  
  
"Yeah? So why'd I beat you, then?"  
  
"I was going easy on you. To preserve your ego."  
  
Jack's eyes narrowed to slits, but his grin was still there, goofy and broad. Hiccup had never noticed his eyelashes. Probably because they were white. "You have eyelashes." He said, idiotically.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
They sat in silence for a few long seconds, looking at each other. Hiccup's chest squeezed as a ludicrous thought occurred to him: they were about to kiss. If he leant forward even a millimetre, they would be kissing. Would Jack want that? Did Jack want him to lean forward? Was Jack waiting for him to do something other than sit frozen like some sort of... person who wasn't interested, or something, fuck!  
  
"... I'm albino, duh." Jack broke the silence, putting his head back against the headboard. For a wild moment Hiccup thought he was about to move away, but he stayed pressed into his side, and Hiccup drummed up the courage to shift the barest bit closer. He could feel the tension in Jack's body begin to leak, and soon he had put his cheek on Hiccup's shoulder, hair splayed across Hiccup's neck and his dark t-shirt, one strand sticking to his lip as they started watching some comedy on Netflix.  
  
Hiccup almost wanted to say sorry for ruining the moment, but the thought of putting whatever was happening into words was too frightening and strange, so he just took Jack's fingers into his own and traced the nails as though in innocent curiosity as Jack draped his arms bonelessly across his abdomen.  
  
"You don't really have an accent." Jack said, watching Hiccup play with his fingers. "I thought you were from Switzerland or something."  
  
"Scandinavia. Nice to know you listen when I talk."  
  
Jack sniggered. "Same thing."  
  
"It's not, really."  
  
"Is. So, where's your hot European drawl?"  
  
"I don't know. I watched a lot of American television. My dad kept the accent, my mum and I mostly lost it."  
  
"Huh. But you speak Scandinavian, right?"  
  
"Norwegian."  
  
"Whatever. Can you say something?"  
  
Hiccup hummed for a moment, and then settled for describing the darkening weather outside.  
  
Jack took a deep breath. "That's awesome. Do it again."  
  
Hiccup described his room to Jack, described the show he was watching, and then, after a moment's embarrassed pause, how beautiful Jack looked in the sharpening shadows with his half lidded eyes and Hiccup's arm a whisper's breadth from his hunched back.  
  
"What does that mean?" Jack asked, when Hiccup went silent again.  
  
"Just... some random facts. The weather and stuff."  
  
"Why'd you leave?"  
  
"My dad was following my mum. They were separated for a couple years."  
  
"Sorry."  
  
"Don't be. My dad's changed a lot since we lived there. He's come around to a lot of things that they used to disagree on." He knew he was being vague with Jack, but he didn't really understand the situation himself, if he was being honest. He knew his parents had fought, and that his mother had thought it was for the best that she left. Hiccup understood that her reasons were complicated, and he was happy to leave it all behind and enjoy their new-found togetherness. "We've been here about 5 years now."  
  
Jack hummed and lifted his legs so his knees were sitting on top of Hiccup's legs - there was no way to call their proximity accidental, now.  
  
"Have you always lived with North?" Hiccup asked gently, licking his lips.  
  
"Since I was 14." Jack answered. "He fostered me for a while, and then I just stuck. Not like anyone else wanted me, so the agency was like, 'whatever'."  
  
Hiccup was blindsided. He'd never met anyone who hadn't been adopted out as a baby. He'd just sort of assumed, since Jack was so flippant about the whole thing, that he'd been the same - didn't remember his parents; didn't mind. "Sorry."  
  
"Nope. Hush."  
  
"Ok." They went back to watching whatever episode of whatever it was Hiccup had put on as the sun set outside the window, but Hiccup felt tainted. He braved putting his arm properly around Jack's shoulder, resting his head back and letting Jack shift up under his chin as he examined the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling. Jack was so carefree, so careless, but every so often, he said something that set Hiccup on edge. No one else wanted him? Even though Jack said it with an empty ease, it struck Hiccup that Jack was being self deprecating. He hope Jack didn't feel unwanted now - but how couldn't he, if he'd felt that way not even 4 years ago? _What a terrible thing to say,_ he thought. _What a terrible thing to think._  
  
The episode switched over, and the night edged on. "My dad always wanted me to be this big sports star." Hiccup said, suddenly, after nearly 2 hours of soft quiet, horrified at the thought of their conversation having ended with Jack's self directed barb.  
  
Jack cleared his throat, and his voice came out groggy. "You are a big sports star, jock boy." He teased.  
  
"I know, but - I wasn't. In Norway, I was the puniest, most pathetic kid on my block. Everyone always said I probably wasn't my dad's real son. I was a changeling or something. Or a Universal joke. Or a punishment from the Gods. Something like that."  
  
"Damn good punishment." Jack mumbled into his chest.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Jack yawned. "Thank the Gods." And then he was asleep.  
  
Hiccup's face burnt. He put his laptop gingerly back on the floor and pulled the covers over Jack's narrow shoulders, empty of coherent thought, unsure whether he'd helped any.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long! I'm really terribly busy! Hope you enjoyed it :)


	4. Chapter 4

Hiccup woke with a start when he heard the distant bang of a pot falling downstairs.

  
Jack had shifted onto his stomach during the night so one leg was pinning both of Hiccup's and sticking off the bed. His head was tucked into Hiccup's side, his shoulders making Hiccup's arm numb. Jack's whole arrangement looked rather acrobatic, and Hiccup was at a loss for a moment as to how to gently shove him off.

  
The clock on the bedside table read 7h23am. Hiccup's feet were cold. He needed a shower. When he took Jack's thigh in one hand and carefully placed it on the mattress, something lodged itself solidly in his throat so he couldn't breathe without heaving. Perhaps he was having a heart attack. The thought that his father was home, and that he was simultaneously lying in bed with Jack and touching Jack through his skinny jeans was so overwhelming he was weirdly tempted to get up and start banging his head against the walls to clear it.

  
"Hiccup!" His mum called from the landing, sounding characteristically cheery. "Toothless would like in your room! Are you coming for breakfast?"

  
"Uh..." Hiccup coughed and looked anxiously at Jack's face. He finally identified the pressure in his chest as super intense happiness. "Yeah - I'll let him in, mum, just - In one second!"

  
"Need me to jump up out the window?" Came Jack's muffled voice from somewhere near Hiccup's elbow.

  
"Uh... no, probably not. Um - " Hiccup pulled his arm out from under Jack's cheek, sitting up properly. "Morning."

   
"Mornin'."

  
"My parents are home."

  
"So I heard."

  
"Toothless wants in."

  
Jack looked wonderful half-asleep. He slowly pulled himself up next to Hiccup on the headboard, his hair messy and his eyelids heavy. "M'kay." He said, but he'd leant back against Hiccup's side and begun to breath evenly and rythmically, as though in sleep.

  
"I have to get up."

  
"S'alright." Said Jack. "Just stay a bit." 

 

  
Hiccup reckoned Jack had gone through every possible variation of '5 more minutes' before he finally dragged himself up - and only after Hiccup threatened to go downstairs without him. He seemed to feel no embarrassment at having woken up clinging to Hiccup like a pale leech; at least not yet, while he was still yawning and grumbling about how early it was, which helped Hiccup feel a little less weird about it, too. He'd feared for a moment, when Jack had first pulled away to rub at his sleep sanded eyes, that Jack would regret everything and want to establish some boundaries, or something. But then Jack had slumped forward and knocked his forehead into Hiccup's knee with an annoyed, tired groan, and Hiccup had realised that Jack was comfortable around him. He'd been grinning ever since.

  
Hiccup was relieved to find that his dad had already gone to clap for the runners at the Annual Harvest Marathon - or whatever it was the Mayor was supposed to do at that sort of thing - by the time they arrived for Sunday breakfast. He could see his mother in the backyard watching the crows pick at the bird feeders hanging in the trees, Cloud sitting with his head in her lap.

  
"Want a scone?" Hiccup asked, while Jack slumped dramatically against the counter.  
"Noooope."

  
"We also have... cereal, strawberries, uh... everything, really. What do you want?"

  
"Not really a breakfast person."

  
"Really?"

  
"Thanks, Hiccup."

  
"But no thanks. Got it."

  
Jack did end up taking a couple blueberries off Hiccup's plate of eggs and toast. They ate across from each other in the smaller dining room near the living room, where Val could only barely see them over the rose bushes. She had waved at Hiccup when she spotted him sitting down and come over to introduce herself to Jack through the window before going back to her wicker seat. Hiccup was glad she wasn't upset that he hadn't at least texted to tell her Jack would be staying over, and a little mortified when she gave him a thumbs up from around the oak tree, where she thought Jack couldn't see her.

  
"Your mum's cool." Jack said. "She seems... supportive."

  
"Supportive?"

  
Jack gave him a slightly curious look. "Yeah." He said, picking at the sleeve of his hoodie.

  
Hiccup shrugged and took another bite of his toast.

 

  
Jack left almost immediately afterwards. To Hiccup's great horror, the morning had gotten tense long before Jack was slipping his shoes on.

  
Hiccup had put his dishes away and plucked Toothless off the back of the couch before leaning against it himself and giving Jack a slightly nervous smile, only to find that Jack was not paying him any mind - he was determinedly prodding at his phone, free hand lodged in his sweatshirt pocket.

  
"North can get me." Jack finally said. By the time he spoke, Hiccup had already pulled his own phone out and started checking facebook. He usually liked to scroll through Jack's account, but since Jack was right there, and he had plenty to talk to them about, had settled for messaging Astrid and Fish.

  
"OK."

  
"Thanks for having me, Hic."

  
"Yeah. Any time."

  
And that was it. Jack chewed on his lips when they sat to watch the Discovery channel and waited for North, almost close enough to brush Hiccup's knee with his own, but without Jack's cocky smile to draw from, Hiccup couldn't find the confidence to do anything about it.

  
_What if the whole thing was like... it was no big deal? What if he didn't mean anything by any of it and now he's just awkward about it because, I don't know! But what if because I was weird this morning now he thinks I'm weird?_

  
Hiccup deleted all the text he'd been rapidly typing to his friends as soon as he'd turned around from saying goodbye to Jack and wrote instead:

  
_What if he thinks I don't like him now?_

  
  
"What's this?"

  
Hiccup put his finger to his lips, but Jack's fingers kept pulling at his binder insistently. He was hard to ignore.

  
It had been a week since their incident at Hiccup's house. Jack continued to draw snowflakes on his knuckles in class, still sought him out in the hallways, but something seemed off about him. They talked in much the same way they always had, but there was a lingering tension so thick it almost seemed like a literal wall had sprung up between them. Hiccup couldn't quite figure out what had happened exactly - whatever Jack thought had happened between them, if he thought about it at all, was a mystery to him. And he wasn't about to just ask. The easy affection they had behind the closed door of Hiccup's bedroom hadn't followed them down into the kitchen.

  
"The Christmas Dance after party." Hiccup sighed and lifted his arms so Jack could pull the notebook out. "I'm not actually going."

  
"What? Why not? It sounds like fun."

  
"Not really my idea of fun."

  
Jack snorted and muttered something under his breath. He looked up at Hiccup with a conspiratory, but strained, half-grin. "I supposed it wouldn't be much fun, since I wasn't invited."

  
That had always surprised Hiccup. There had been three big parties since start of term, and Jack hadn't been invited to a single one. Hiccup always was. He wrote them in his day planner, but he'd only gone to the first one, drank half a bottle of beer, sat on the couch, had a really bland time, and left at 8.

  
Jack was charismatic. He was beautiful. He was exciting and funny. Being with him made Hiccup feel like his bones were swelling with some sort of joyful feeling. He was someone worth having at a party.

  
"You have no idea how right you are." Hiccup answered. "They're basically intolerable - I'm pretty sure any change would be a good change."

  
"Oh man. That bad?"

  
"Mostly the seniors sitting around in their parent's living rooms and pretending to be drunk."

  
"Oh man!" Jack looked back down at the day planner, where 'Christmas Thing, Hannah's dad's Place; 8h00' was written in Hiccup's neat scrawl. "I almost don't believe you."

  
"I'm almost 100% serious."

  
"What sort of party do you like, then, Mr Haddock? More of a 'secrets and makeovers' guy?"

  
"More of a 'stay at home and do something productive' guy."

  
"Ever wanted company?" Jack asked. He was looking very intently at the planner now, at the date. He sounded like he needed to clear his throat, voice a little tight, like squeezing.

  
HIccup swallowed, flipping his pen between his thumb and forefinger. He still felt like he was on shaky ground, like if he shifted his knuckles in the wrong way, he'd crush their weird friendship, and Jack would leak like water out of the cracks in his fists.

  
 "Or we could crash it."

  
Hiccup raised his eyebrows. "Uhuh. You mean you could crash it. I'm invited, remember? Also, I'm not going."

  
"I could be your plus one."

  
Hiccup was suddenly struck with the realisation that if he rejected Jack's attempts to hang out with him one more time, he would have to kick himself under the table.

  
"Alright." He said, all the breath leaving his body in an anxious wave. "Alright. Whatever you want to do sounds good. Call the shots, Mr Frost."

 

  
Jack's home was tucked between two large farms, at the peak of a road so icy Hiccup almost didn't want to drive all the way to the top. It reminded him of a gingerbread house. He'd promised Jack he'd pick him up at 8, and Jack must have been waiting by the door, because he burst from the doorway with a grin brighter than the Christmas lights hanging from the roof and a bottle of rum before Hiccup could even step out of his car.

  
"I'd share, but you're driving." Jack said, shaking the bottle and gripping the open driver's side door with his free hand.

  
HIccup smiled fondly up at him. "Now look who's being responsible."

  
Jack shrugged. "I have my moments."

  
Hiccup's lungs were starting to feel overworked. He was trying not to breath too... weirdly. In case Jack noticed. The winter air, the soft edges of Jack's hair in the darkness, the way the headlights slanted against Jack's cheeks... all of it was making Hiccup blank on everything he'd ever thought he knew about breathing like a functioning human being.

  
"I think I'll get in the car now." Jack said, giving Hiccup's car door a little pat.

  
"Yeah."

  
Hiccup watched Jack pull his legs into the passenger seat before pulling out of the driveway. By the time they'd left, he could hardly remember what Jack's house had even looked like - all he could think of was the straight line of Jack's white teeth, of what little of Jack he could see out of the corner of his eye: dark coat and the white hand on his lap fading in and out of deep shadow as they passed under the streetlights on the highway. The amber liquid in Jack's bottle swayed with every gear shift.

  
"Hope you don't mind... uh, this." Hiccup said, tapping his finger on the radio. His ipod was playing on quiet shuffle.

  
"I'm not picky."

  
"You can change it if you want."

  
"I don't want to." Jack took a sip from the rum. "I want to listen to your stuff."

  
"You can change the temperature, too."

  
Jack shifted so his one of his feet was propped up on the storage compartment. Hiccup was trying not to let on that his hands were sweating on the steering wheel. He'd had no idea someone could look so cool sitting in his stupid car.

  
By the time they arrived at Hannah's house, Hiccup didn't want to get out. If he thought about it, he really just.... wanted Jack to go for a drive with him instead. They could go to the park near his house. They could get a milkshake. While Jack fumbled with his seat belt, he entertained the thought of putting two straws in something egg nog flavoured, to make it up to Jack for the time he'd chickened out on the soda.   
He took a deep, rallying breath. Jack had been putting palms on his forearms for weeks, had bought him lunch, invited him to this stupid party. It was about time he did... something, if they were ever going to get anywhere. If Jack even... He took another breath. "Do you want to... go somewhere else?"

  
Jack paused with his hand on the door handle. "Uh, what do you mean?"

  
"I don't really... um. I'm just going to this party because, well, you'd be there. But you're here. We could... go somewhere, just us."

  
"Yeah." Jack pulled his hand back. There was something cheeky in his voice. When Hiccup turned to look at him, he saw that his eyes were narrowed and bright with half-drunken amusement. "We could."

  
"So..."

  
"This was all a ploy to get me alone, wasn't it, Mr Haddock?"

  
"What? No. Are you - "

  
"I see now. You're quite the conspirator."

  
"No."

  
"I never even saw it coming. How naive of me! Tricked!"

  
Hiccup laughed. "You invited yourself here."

  
"Don't try to twist this, Hiccup. I'm just here to crash a party. I never expected to be kidnapped."

  
"You could open the door. It's unlocked."

  
Jack turned in his seat so he was facing Hiccup properly. "I don't want to." He said, cheek pressed into the heated leather. His lips looked cracked in the dim lights off the dashboard, his jawline disappeared into inky darkness, his collarbones peaked in moonlight.

  
"How does." Hiccup's throat felt dry. He coughed. "I was thinking milkshakes."

  
"I like it when you think."

  
"Right."

  
Hiccup started the car with fumbling fingers. 

 

  
Hiccup drove to two diners before accepting that nothing nice was open. They pulled up to a Denny's just after 9h30, Jack laughing, empty bottle at his feet, as Hiccup regalled him with the story of one of his many mishaps working at Gobber's garage back in Norway.

  
"Do you miss it?" Jack asked, when they'd started towards the restaurant.

  
"Yeah." He said, "I loved it there. I never thought I would, but I did."

  
Jack smiled, holding the door for Hiccup with a waggle of his eyebrows. "I could try to take your mind off it." He suggested.

  
"Could you?" Hiccup snorted. "Two, please."

  
They were directed to a booth in the back. Hiccup was glad to be seated well out of the way of the few other patrons. Jack had gone from endearingly tipsy to utterly smashed during their drive through the city.

  
Hiccup was profoundly embarrassed, asking the waitress for a milkshake with two straws while Jack mixed every condiment on the table on a napkin, breathily humming 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas.'

  
"Just a little something I'm inventing." He said to the server, when she gave the ketchup-pepper-vinegar-peanut butter mix a confused look. Hiccup flashed her a very apologetic smile.

  
"That looks and smells vile." He said.

  
Jack sniggered. "Sounds like someone I know."

  
"Excuse me? I smell... at least acceptable."

  
Jack laughed again, pushing the napkin away from himself. "I know. You smell like Beast Men's Shampoo."

  
"Uh. Yeah. That's... what I use."

  
"I know."

  
"Wow."

  
To Hiccup's great relief, Jack folded up the condiment mixture and went to throw it out before their drink arrived, wavering a little on his way.

  
"This is a great date, Hiccup." Jack gushed, when the server put the milkshake between them. "I just... love being on this date with you, to be honest."

  
Hiccup felt his torso become a vice as Jack leant forward, his eyes never straying from Hiccup's, to take a sip from one of the straws. And then the other one. "Uh." He said. He felt Jack kick him under the table.   
"Drink your milkshake, Hiccup."

  
"Right."

  
It was weird, sharing with Jack. It was weird being around Jack when he was like this. But, Hiccup, supposed, fun. Jack laughed constantly. Hiccup had missed feeling at ease with him, had missed spending time with him without the wall between them. Jack's nose brushed his several times throughout the evening, and Hiccup couldn't help but laugh every time Jack stage whispered 'That was on purpose!' every time.

  
When he took the check and led Jack by both hands back to the car, he was more certain than ever that he had not misinterpreted anything. His nerves where alight. Jack's palms were cold and smooth against his, Jack's eyes shone like lit ice.

  
"I'm going to drop you at home." Hiccup said, when they'd pulled away from the Denny's. It was almost midnight. "Uh, is that okay?"

  
"Yeah. North doesn't care." Jack was sitting sideways again, looking at Hiccup with a wickedly sappy expression. "You can come to my house."

  
"I probably shouldn't."

  
"Should."

  
"I'll call you tomorrow. If you want."

  
"Mmm."

  
When Hiccup looked back at Jack a couple stop lights later, his eyes were closed. Hiccup thought he looked peaceful, until he suddenly lurched forward, thumping his arm on the glovebox to support himself as he puked on the floor mats.

  
Hiccup's grip tightened on the steering wheel.

  
"Oops." Jack coughed, wiping his mouth on his jacket sleeve, and settled back in his spot, knees pulled up to his chest.

  
"My dad is going to kill me. He is going to... he is going to murder me."

  
Jack's hand found his and pulled it down so it rested in his lap, on top of his stitched jeans pocket. "You had a good run."

  
Hiccup couldn't help it - he laughed. "I did." He agreed. 

 

  
The lights were still on when they pulled up in front of Jack's house.

  
"Sorry about your life expectancy." Jack said groggily.

  
"That's... that's ok."

  
"I'll make it up to you."

  
Jack had been watching him with the same sleepy, adoring look all car ride. Hiccup stared at him. "Sure."

  
"Usually, at this stage, people kiss."

  
"I suppose they do."

  
"I could brush my teeth. Then come back out." Jack chuckled, dropping his voice dramatically. " _Like it never even happened_."

  
Something weird in Hiccup was saying that, yes, Jack should go in and brush his teeth, and he'd just wait in the car for him to do that. Something even weirder was saying they could just kiss anyway.

  
"You should probably get to sleep." He said instead. "You have had way too much to drink."

  
"I know."

  
Hiccup was thrilled to be able to say: "We can kiss any time."

  
But Jack shook his head. "Not if your dad kills you. Sorry. About that." Jack opened the door clumsily, kicking his legs out like he was trying to throw his feet as far away as he could.

  
Hiccup hurried to get out as well and walk him to the door, linking an arm through Jack's and guiding him over the front lawn.

  
"Instead of going to the house." Jack suggested, as Hiccup shifted to hold him around the waist when his knees buckled. "We can be here in the grass."

  
"Uh, no. We're going to the house."

  
"Get down here, Hiccup."

  
Hiccup shook his head. "You get up here."

  
"Mm. Yessir. Up I go." Jack did not get up. It seemed to Hiccup he was trying his best to lay down in the snow.

  
Hiccup hoisted him up himself - Jack was shockingly light. He probably could have just tossed him over his shoulder. "I'll call you." He said, as he opened the door for him. "I promise."

  
"I just don't want you to leave, so. Because then I'll be alone. If you aren't there."

  
"I know." He found himself saying. "I know."

  
And, even though Jack's mouth smelt like a mess of sick and booze and spearmint gum, Hiccup did kiss him - just briefly, on his top lip. "I know." He said again. "I know."  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy October, everyone! These two are such disasters... hope you enjoyed this chapter. Enjoy your autumn holidays!


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm getting my mum a poinsettia."  
  
"Aren't those poisonous?"  
  
"Yeah. It's going to be under constant supervision."  
  
Jack grinned. "You're going to babysit a flower?"  
  
"I guess."  
  
Jack picked up two bottles of maple syrup by the neck with the hand that wasn't holding the phone and set them on the table between Tooth and North, who were both holding mugs of hot chocolate.  
  
_"Thank you, Jack._ " Tooth mouthed, with a kindly smile. Jack gave her a thumbs up before turning around again, listening to Hiccup talk about his family's holiday plans.  
  
"He is always on phone." North complained. "I am thinking we would be spending quality time during school break, but instead he is spending quality time with friend-who-is-boy and cellphone."  
  
Tooth giggled, and Jack made a face over the kitchen's long island. "Hiccup's shopping for Christmas stuff." He told North, "Poinsettias and wreaths and stuff."  
  
"Ah! In this case, I approve."  
  
Jack brought the full plate of pancakes to the table next, balancing them on his palm. "We're having brunch." He told Hiccup, "no, I don't need to go. You don't have an advent calendar already? North bought, like, five last month. I'll bring you the day's truffles next time we hang out." He started one-handedly spreading jam on his pancake, trying to ignore North miming hanging up a phone.  
  
"Ha. Well, we're not very on top of things like that, now that I'm older." Hiccup explained. "Do you have anything else planned for the day?"  
  
"Nope."  
  
"Okay, because, there's a dollar skate and free hot chocolate at Lake Whitecourt tonight, and I was just thinking, that seemed like something that'd be your thing, so, maybe I could pick you up. If you want to go, that is."  
  
"You just really want that truffle."  
  
"I'm a truffle fiend!"  
  
Jack stabbed his pancake with his fork, shifting to put one foot on his chair. "I don't skate, though."  
  
"Seriously? I mean, okay, that's fine. Another time."  
  
"We could check out the gift shop at the hotel. There are armchairs in the cafe."  
  
Hiccup swallowed audibly, and Jack imagined him, looking like a deer-in-headlights in the aisle of the drug store, holding a flowerpot in one arm, surrounded by boxed chocolates and tinsel. There always came a moment when they were talking on the phone where he wanted to be wherever Hiccup was, able to take his hand or link their arms so badly it burnt his stomach like acid.  
  
"If you want." Hiccup answered, tentatively.  
  
"Yeah. I do."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"It's a date."  
  
Hiccup let out a breathy little laugh. "It's a date." He said quietly, and then louder, "I'll see you at... 6? 7?"  
  
"Sooner is always better."  
  
"Alright. Bye, Jack."  
  
"Catch you later."  
  
  
Stoick looked up from the table when Hiccup got home and wandered into the dining room from the adjoining kitchen, tapping out a text on his phone. Stoick had been using one of his many pocket knives to eat an apple, several newspaper pages laying in front of him. "Your friend again?" He asked uneccessarily. Hiccup didn't talk to anyone except Jack and his friends in Norway, but those conversations weren't held in hushed, secretive English, so he could usually tell the difference.  
"Yeah. Can I borrow the Malibu tonight?"  
  
"You're spending a lot of time with this Jack person." Stoick pursed his lips. "He's not a bad influence, is he, son?"  
  
"No, Dad." Hiccup sighed. "He paid for the cleaning in the car and everything."  
  
Stoick had already mentioned - several times - that if it weren't for Jack's penchant for underage drinking, the car wouldn't have needed cleaning at all. He might have brought it up again, since Hiccup seemd to have convinently forgotten for the sake of arguing Jack's character, but Val was always telling him not to belabour his points so much, and Val had a way of reaching their son that both completely awed and completely escaped him, so she was probably right. "Just be careful." He said instead.  
  
"Thanks, Dad."  
  
"And where are you going?" Stoick asked Hiccup's hastily retreating back.  
  
"Uh... the lake. There's an event going on. Sort of."  
  
"Hm."  
  
Hiccup nodded and turned back towards the stairs. Sometimes he wondered if his parents knew something was going on with him and Jack. His mother's smiles kept getting bigger and more mischevious every time he jumped to answer Jack's texts. Part of him wanted to tell her that they'd kissed; he ached to tell anyone and everyone about it, since it was always forfront in his mind, and the strange, happy pressure he felt in his gut whenever he thought about Jack made him very noticeably giddy. He wasn't sure how he'd resisted answering honestly whenever she asked what he was always smiling about.  
  
He knew she would be happy for him. She'd probably want to meet Jack right away. She'd probably love him. They were both free-spirited, sensitive sorts. They could bond about stupid knock-knock jokes. Actually, Hiccup had been telling his mum a lot of Jack's jokes to great success ever since they'd met. His mother's reaction wasn't what was stopping him. Telling one parent meant telling the other.  
  
Stoick had never been very open to Hiccup's oddities. He needed to stew on things, get angry. Val joked that Stoick went through the five stages of grief every time he learnt anything new about Hiccup, and would probably need some space to accept new information, even little things like Hiccup's favourite colour.  
  
"I just won't tell him it's green, then." Hiccup had said., and Stoick had frowned over his coffee.  
  
"I'm not that bad." His dad had argued.  
  
But he was. He'd grounded Hiccup when he'd dropped gym in favour of art in 10th grade. He was _terrible_. Hiccup wasn't in any particular rush to tell Stoick anything.  
  
More pressing, though, was the matter of Jack Frost.  
  
_I don't even know what we are_ , Hiccup thought, as he followed Jack through the crowd in the Whitecourt Lake Hotel's lounge. It wasn't like he could just ask.  
  
They settled at a table opposite each other, one table away from the brightly crackling fireplace, next to a window overlooking part of the lake and a thick cluster of evergreen trees. Snowflakes were falling gently among the branches and piling up on the window ledge.  
  
"Here," Jack said, putting the little tin box he'd been holding on his lap all car ride over on the table between them. "I wasn't kidding when I said North has a million advent calendars."  
  
"He must be really into Christmas."  
  
Inside, Jack had put no fewer than 6 assorted chocolates - all the candies for December 22nd; dark squares with Christmastime scenes molded on the front, a milky white Santa hat, and the milk chocolate truffles he'd promised over the phone. North had also sent him away with Christmas cookies.  
  
"Yeah. He always goes all out."  
  
Hiccup bit into a snickerdoodle. "Woah. We could use some of these at our house."  
  
"Parents don't bake?"  
  
"They do." Hiccup explained, "but not like this. My mum's been trying to use cookbooks more, but we're still hit and miss sometimes."  
  
Jack pushed the tin closer, "Anytime you want Christmas cookies, I'm sure North'll be happy to oblige." He shrugged. "And, well, I know some of his recipes. Mostly the peppermint ones. I made those ones."  
  
"Those are my favourite ones!"  
  
"Oh, come on. You haven't even eaten one yet, you suck up."  
  
  
"So, why don't you skate?" Hiccup asked, pointedly taking a sugar cookie with a glassy candy cane centre from the tin, as a child skidded screaming across the ice and into a snowbank out the window.  
  
"I just don't."  
  
"Do you, uh, want to learn? I'm okay at -"  
  
"No."  
  
Jack's expression had hardened in a way Hiccup was growing rather used to.  
  
"These really are the best ones." He said, "you're good at this."  
  
"... Thanks."  
  
  
The people sitting next to the fire moved after a quarter of an hour, so, after going back for more hot chocolate, Jack and Hiccup took over their armchairs.  
  
"I just think..." Jack said suddenly, pulling his ankles up so he could sit crosslegged, "it would be so easy for the ice to break."  
  
Hiccup nodded noncommittally. "I guess it does happen. But they measure it here."  
  
"Are you scared of anything, Hiccup? I mean, like, really scared."  
  
Usually, Hiccup might have said 'not handing in an essay to Mr Cale' or something, but he'd never seen Jack look so serious - it wouldn't be fair not to think about it.  
  
"I used to be scared about coming to America." He said. "I wasn't sure how my family would... click, I guess. If they could really work it out. I guess I still worry Mum's going to decide she wants to live in the rain forest and we're not going to be able to follow her, again." Jack leant over to offer Hiccup the few remaining cookies. "So, you're scared of ice skating?"  
  
"Drowning, I think. I don't swim, either."  
  
"There goes my chance of seeing you in a bathing suit."  
  
Jack let out a bark of surprised laughter. "You'll have to get creative!"  
  
"I'll hit the drawing board." Hiccup passed the tin back so Jack could have the last gingerbread man. "Did you fall in a pool when you were little? Or is it more like... you can't see the bottom, or something?"  
  
Jack shook his head. "I don't know. Could be." He bit the gingerbread man's legs off. "Want to check out the gift shop? I still need to get North something for his stocking."  
  
"Your dad has a stocking?"  
  
"Yeah. Like I said - he loves Christmas." Jack took Hiccup's hand as though to help him out of his chair, and then led him past the cafe counter into the gift shop without letting go. Hiccup was happy enough to be distracted from their previous conversation, even though something about the way Jack talked about his past still struck him as suspect. He'd never liked holding anything quite so much as he liked holding Jack's long fingers. Anyway, it was a decidedly non-friend-like gesture, and Hiccup liked it when Jack blurred that particular line. _This is a date_ , he reminded himself, _so we're definitely dating_. _At least dating._  
"What about one of these?" He pointed at a shelf of organic chocolate bars - one of which was called 'Jack Frost.'  
  
"Perfect. What more could anyone ask for for Christmas?"  
  
"Than you?"  
  
Jack chuckled, swinging Hiccup's arm and looking down at their connected hands. "Exactly."  
  
  
It had been Christmas, three years prior, when Jack had first woken up in one of the bedrooms of North's estate. Tinsel had been wrapped around the bedposts of his new bed, and North had left a pair of hand-made socks on the dresser. He picked them up to reveal a note, written in gold ink with an expressive, looping scrawl.  

                             _Good Morning and Merry Christmas, Jack Frost!_  
_This is your new bedroom - it is nice, yes? I decorated it myself! You may change it if you like. But now is time for breakfast and presents!_  
_North_  
                                                     
  
Jack put the socks on and stuffed the note inside for safe keeping. He wandered towards the window, pushing aside the curtains to reveal a bright, white morning. He felt odd, like he'd been cut and pasted into someone else's picturesque life, but happy, too. His new bedroom glowed in the sunlight.  
  
He riffled through the drawers to reveal several pairs of white socks, and winter themed pajamas - snowmen, snowflakes, and candy canes, to match the tinsel and baubles he was wearing already. "Someone likes Christmas." He said aloud, opening the closet to find two knitted festive sweaters. He pulled the red and green one over his head. It smelt like cinnamon and dryer lint.  
  
When he was finished poking around the bedroom, he wandered into the hall and down the stairs. Soft music was playing from somewhere off to the right, and he followed the sound into a large sitting room glittering with faerie lights. A beautiful woman was seated on the beige couch, holding a pair of large feather earrings. Across from her was a merrily smiling bearded man. Both looked up when Jack appeared in the large entryway. The woman looked unsure, but the old man grinned so broadly it made Jack want to grin, too.  
  
"Jack! You are awake!"  
  
Jack nodded. He cast a furtive glance at the woman, and her face seemed to have melted into a curious happiness.  
  
"You are sleeping in a lot, no?" The old man winked. His eyes were strikingly blue, and kind.  
  
Jack rubbed his eyes. "I... suppose so? Sorry."  
  
"Is okay, my boy! Welcome! Is worth the wait."  
  
The woman put her earrings on the cushion beside her and stood. She was wearing a shimmering green dress and a knit button-up not unlike the ones Jack had found in the closet upstairs.  
  
"Did you make this?" He asked, tugging at the hem of his sweater.  
  
She shook her head. "North makes them! He makes all sorts of wonderful things." She cleared her throat with a high pitched little sound. "Well! I'm Toothiana Loo. You can call me Tooth, if you like. It's wonderful to meet you, Jack."  
  
"You too, Tooth." Jack turned back to the old man. "You're North?" He asked.  
  
The old man nodded and Jack smiled back at him, feeling strangely warm and wanted, like he was among people who'd known him all his life, who cared for him.  
  
North picked three socks from the fireplace, handing one to Jack and one to Tooth, and placing one in his lap. Two stockings were still left hanging. "We have more friends coming later," North explained, "for big Christmas dinner tomorrow! Is my specialty."  
  
Jack's stocking was full of candy canes and little notes, with a mandarin orange tucked into the toe. The notes all said things like 'soap of choice' and 'good for one pair of pants'.  
  
"My idea." Tooth gushed, when she saw Jack inspecting them. "I thought you might like to pick out your own clothes."  
  
It hadn't occurred to Jack before. Was that something he liked doing? "Thanks, Tooth." He said, "I appreciate it."  
  
North's stocking had a toothbrush inside, to which he said 'Ah! Very nice,' before putting it haphazardly aside in favour of a chocolate orange.  
  
Tooth had an assortment of mints and a handful of toffees. "Guilty pleasure!" She told Jack, unwrapping one. "I always remember to floss afterwards, of course."  
  
Jack cocked an eyebrow. "Of course."  
  
When he stood to fix the empty stockings back over the fireplace (it seemed so lopsided without all of them), Tooth leant across the gap between couches to whisper with North. "He's perfect."  
  
"Just as I have been always saying he would be!"  
  
"I just wasn't expecting - Jack, honey, why don't you go wait in the kitchen so we can have breakfast? - I wasn't expecting... well. He's sweet, isn't he?"  
  
North clapped his large hands together proudly. "I make no mistakes." He stood and made as though to follow Jack into the kitchen, but Tooth put her quick little hands on his forearm to stop him.  
"I guess I just worry." She said, taking her hands back to curl a loose strand of hair around one finger. She'd put the bright earrings in - North's Christmas gift to her. They brushed softly against the slope of her neck.  
  
"Now is not time for worry!" North declared. "Is time for breakfast. And presents!"  
  
Tooth let out a placating laugh. "Ok. Breakfast. Presents. But we'll talk more later?"  
  
"Later."  
  
And North had gotten Jack a good many Christmas presents - piles of carefully wrapped boxes with curly ribbon and velvet bows, tucked under a tree so tall Jack couldn't touch the star at the top, even on his tip toes. North and Tooth laughed delightedly when he tried, North sounding like the boom of a marching band drum; and to his great surprise, Tooth rose in a flurry of colour and joy to wrap her arms around him. That was how he experienced his first ever hug, as far as he remembered. He was too surprised to return it, but Tooth didn't seem to mind. She looked at him like she could hardly believe his being there was even possible, but she was glad he'd managed to exist, anyway.  
  
"I just wish I had something I could give you." Jack said, some hours later. He was surrounded in ripped paper and open boxes of chocolates.  
  
North's rosy face crinkled as his smile grew. "You are already best Christmas present, Jack Frost. Celebrating as a family- that is all I am ever wanting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... Well, that is a bit strange.  
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I don't believe I've ever had such a nasty combination of limited Internet access and non-existent free time :( I really apologise for how slow this is to update; hopefully the next chapter will be up in a couple hundred years or so. Well... Any theories re: Jack's mysterious past? No! Don't try to guess! it's a secret!


End file.
